Make Believe
by DearieMate
Summary: AU: Killian Jones & Emma Swan have been inseparable since childhood. But growing up is not easy, nor is the realization that life is not as simple and magical as the make believe games of their yesterdays. Especially when the fate of the heart is at stake.
1. One

She'd fallen asleep at her desk, attempting to finish what was left of her French homework. Easier said than done. It was towards the end of senior year now, and she'd lost most of her motivation to finish out strong. And it didn't help that her room had a sweet ambiance to it at night: candle burning, her mellow indie playlist playing, and the soft glow of twinkling lights that hung around her window. It was so cozy in there sometimes…and this wasn't the first time she'd fallen asleep trying to get work done.

She was woken up by the sound of a knock on her window. There was only one person that could be. She groggily walked over and pulled back the curtain to see him there, on her roof, smiling that mischievous smile of his.

"Killian, what are you doing here? It's late," she whined as she opened the window.

"C'mon, it's been forever since we sat out here. And look at all those stars!"

He was giving her that damn puppy dog look, the one that she knew all too well.

"Fine," she sighed. "Just for a little bit…I think my dad will be home soon."

Killian and Emma had been best friends for as long as they'd known each other. He'd moved to Storybrooke from Ireland with his dad and older brother back when they were kids.

He was sort of a shy kid then. His thick European accent threw a lot of kids off, so he mostly stayed to himself. That was, until he met Emma. One day in the first grade, she offered him a crayon, and they'd been thick as thieves ever since.

Now here they were, both seniors in high school. His lankiness had given way to a tall sort of strength, and she'd grown up quite a bit, too. Puberty had been good to them both. Emma would never admit it, but she had always thought he was handsome.

They were almost always together, save for when they were in separate classes or Killian was working a shift down at the coffee shop. They walked to school together every morning, like they'd always done since they were kids. He would wait for her at the fence, with a cup of hot chocolate dusted with cinnamon (being a barista had its perks). He knew her well enough to know not to speak to her until she'd had some of it to drink.

They both knew each other so well. They'd grown up together, alongside each other. Being together was as effortless as breathing. It always had been.

Usually after school, Killian would come over to her parents' house, and they'd watch movies or do homework...or pretty much whatever they felt like. Emma's parents, The Nolans, were a sweet couple. Her mother, Mary Margaret, was a teacher at the local elementary school, and her father David was the Sheriff. They liked Killian. They knew that he and Emma were best friends, but they would never press the matter further with their daughter, because she was about as headstrong as they come. She wasn't one to talk about her emotions a lot, at least not to them. If she hadn't mentioned it, they wouldn't either.

One particular pastime that Emma and Killian liked, was to sit on her roof and stargaze. They would lay there next to each other and talk about anything and everything that would come to mind. Sometimes he would bring his guitar up there, sometimes just a cigarette.

This night on the roof was particularly lovely, because the weather had recently turned. The air was warm and sweet, and the cherry blossom tree outside her window had just bloomed, dusting the front yard with soft pink petals. He had to climb up the tree to reach her.

She reached over and brushed the petals out of his hair. She'd always loved his hair. It was soft and jet black and hung over his eyes a little. It was the complete opposite of her own: long, thick blonde waves. They were like two sides of the same coin. Light and dark.

He lit up his cigarette and laid down next to her. The sky was brilliantly speckled with stars. Living in a small town like Storybrooke had its perks, and this was definitely one of them. You could always see the stars.

"What were you working on when you fell asleep?" he asked.

Emma sighed. "Just some stupid French homework. I don't know, I just don't feel like doing any of it, you know?"

"I hear you. I failed my Chemistry test today," he said with a laugh.

"Killian!" she laughed. "You've got to get your shit together."

"Oh, and why's that?" he said, taking another puff.

"Because," Emma crooned. "You've got to keep up your GPA if you plan on going to college next semester."

"Actually," he started, "I was thinking about just working for a bit, maybe taking a few classes here, at Storybrooke College. I want to save up and finally buy a boat...like I've always wanted."

"Storybrooke College...the community college?"

"The very same. And what about you? Have you heard from any more schools yet?"

"Just the one in Boston so far. To be honest, I'm starting to feel afraid that I'm not going to."

"You'll be fine. I'm sure you'll hear from more soon…you're bloody brilliant. But Jesus," he sighed. "Boston is so far, Swan."

**Swan.** That was his nickname for her. When they were little, they used to play a make believe game called "Pirates and Princesses." Usually she was the princess in distress, and he'd be the pirate who would sail to save her in her hour of need, but sometimes they'd switch it up. Sometimes Emma wanted to be the pirate, and he'd pretend to be a prince. She had named her pirate ship "The Black Swan." Hence, her nickname.

"I know," she replied, knowing exactly what he meant. _Boston is so far from **me,** Swan_.

"I know."

They sat in silence for a while, and Killian puffed out the last of his cigarette, flicking it into the gutter. He sat his knees up, and loosely hung his arms over them, fingers lacing together.

Emma finally spoke up. "Hey, isn't senior prom soon?"

"Fuck if I know," he laughed. "It's not like I'm going, anyway."

"Yeah, I don't know if I want to yet," she admitted. "But then again, it's our last chance to go to something like that. Maybe it would be fun. There's gonna be a shit ton of food, and dancing-"

"I don't dance, Swan."

"Hah," she laughed. "No shit, Sherlock. I know you'd rather brood around with your guitar than dance any day."

"Right you are, love!" he said, cocking his eyebrows at her sarcastically.

"What if we both got dates and then all went together?" she asked.

"Emma, seriously. I really don't want to go."

What he had really wanted to say was: _I don't want to go unless I can go with __**you.**_

But that was never going to happen. They were friends, best friends, and he knew that she liked it that way. At least, he was pretty sure. She'd never made him think otherwise.

"Well, your loss then buddy," she said as she sat up next to him. "I actually think I may have a date already. Well, I mean nothing is set in stone, but I think someone might ask me."

"Who the hell would wanna take you out?" he snarked.

"Shut up!" she laughed, punching him in the arm.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Who, then?"

"Neal Cassidy."

He scoffed. "The pothead? Jesus fuck, Emma. You can do better than that."

"He's not a pothead!" she shouted, and then realized that maybe she shouldn't say things like that so loud when her mother could possibly hear. She turned to him and spoke in a lower tone. "He's not a pothead. I mean he does get high sometimes but he's actually really nice. We have a few classes together. I think he may like me."

Just then, Killian started humming a little tune, a smug look creeping across his face.

"_Emma and Neal, sitting in a tree-"_

"Oh my god," she said. "How old are you?"

He continued anyway. "_K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"_

"You are so fucking annoying," she laughed.

He laughed along with her. He had always made it one of his goals to make her laugh every day. Her smile was one of his favorite things in the entire world.

"Sorry, you're right," he confessed. "I'm being an ass. If you like him and he asks you, then why not."

She shot him a quizzical look. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, well. I trust your judgment."

She was pleasantly surprised by his acceptance of this whole thing. "Thanks, Killian."

He looked over at her. "Sure thing, love. If I'm not going to go, at least go with someone you'll have fun with."

As he looked at her, he saw a look of remembrance passing over Emma's face, and with it, a sly smile.

"Do you remember-"

"Oh god," he said. "I think I know where this is going."

That made her laugh, but she continued. "Do you remember that time you kissed me when we were kids?"

"Fuck," he said, lowering his face into his hands. "I knew you were gonna say that. You just really love bringing that up every few years, don't you?"

Seeing his reaction garnered a deep belly laugh from Emma.

"We were six years old, Swan!"

"I was the princess, and you had just 'saved me' from unspeakable peril in the high seas…and, and you just fucking kissed me!"

"This is my worst nightmare," he said, trying to hold back his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, holding back tears from laughing so hard.

Just then, a bright blue Camaro pulled up in front of the house. Killian's older brother Liam stepped out and waved at them.

"Well, looks like my ride is here, Swan. I'll see you in the morning."

Emma smiled up at him. "Bye."

She watched him as he scaled down the tree and hopped to the ground with a thud.

When he was partly down the sidewalk, she shouted, "The usual? 7:45, hot chocolate?"

He turned around and walked backwards, smiling that gorgeous smile of his. "Always!"

She waited until the car had turned the corner before she went inside.

On the ride home, Killian thought of that kiss that Emma was so fond of remembering at the worst times. Smiling to himself, he remembered the way she looked right before he'd done it. Beautiful, sparkling green eyes, waves of yellow cradling her face. He just couldn't help himself. She had been the princess and he'd saved her, it had only felt right in his six year old mind.

But he had known, even then, that he was completely done for. He had loved her then, when he gave her that little peck on the lips.

And though he didn't want to admit it to himself, he still did.


	2. Two

She sighed with frustration as her hands dropped to her sides. "I'm gonna fail this test, Killian. And then I'm never going to get into college. I'm going to become homeless and desolate and then I'll die a slow, painful death," she said, dramatically falling onto the bed next to where he was sitting.

He'd been attempting to help her study for her French final for over two hours now, and she didn't feel any better off than when they started.

"Hush, Swan. You'll be fine. Plus, you've already sent out applications for college anyway. It's a little late for that."

"Ughhhhh," she grunted. "Fine. Let's try the flash cards. I'm pretty good at those…I could use a confidence boost."

He muffled a laugh as he picked up the stack of cards. She sat up across from him on the bed and faced him, legs crossed.

"Okay," he started. "How do you say…?"

One by one they flipped through the cards, and she got through them pretty quickly, throwing around the best French accent she could muster, which made him smile.

She loved his smile. Sometimes when they were close enough, she could see the way his eyes glittered a little when he smiled. And if she got him to laugh hard enough, sometimes she could spot a little dimple at the top of his grin. Sitting across from him on the bed, she noticed something else about him, though. She'd always thought he was handsome, but he was more than that. He was easy on the eyes, to say the least. He was wearing his Kinks t-shirt underneath a light flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up. Wrapped around his wrist was a light brown lace from one of Emma's boots. She'd given it to him years ago, after his dad had left town…as a way to show him that she'd never leave him like that. He'd worn it every day since.

He'd grown some scruff, too. And his hair was doing that thing where it curled a little at the end as it hung over his eyes. And his eyes, well. She'd never known a deeper blue.

_What the hell, Emma? _She thought. _This is Killian you're thinking about, here. Killian. Snap out of it._

She could feel the heat rising up in her cheeks, embarrassed with herself. She hoped he hadn't seen her staring. Emma looked down at her hands to get her mind back on track.

"Okay, last one," he said. He slowly picked up the card and paused a moment before reading it out loud.

"I love you."

Emma's head snapped back up, a look of surprise etched on her face. "What?"

He looked at her for a moment, and she could feel a knot tightening in her stomach. Then he held up the notecard.

"The card, Swan. How do you say 'I love you'?"

"Oh, right," she said shaking her head. _Oh my god, that was a close one._

"Je t'aime," she answered.

He smiled.

The hallway at school was crammed with other students, rushing to get to their next destination. Emma pushed through the crowd towards her locker, which was next to Killian's. They were lucky, because seniors could choose their own lockers, and naturally, they wanted to be right next to each other.

"Hey," she called, walking up to him as he slid some books into his locker.

"Hey. How'd you do on your test?"

"I think I did okay actually," she answered. "Last night really helped."

He thought about the look on her face when he'd said "I love you."

"Good," he smiled. "I'm glad."

She opened up her locker and began pulling out the books she needed.

"So," she started, "I think Neal may come over after school today. He said he had something to ask me. I think it's about prom…"

"Yikes," he said.

"I know," she sighed. "I told him he could join us to watch a movie, like we usually do. That way if he asks, I'll know for sure if I want to go with him. I don't know him outside of school."

"I can't today, Swan. I've got work."

"Shit, no. Come on, Killian!"

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "I guess you and Neal will have to be all alone without me."

"Oh god, it's going to be so awkward…I need you there. What if he tries to ask me? I have no idea how to do this whole _hey I like you lets hang out sometime-thing. _You're the only person I ever hang out with._"_

"I don't know if I should feel flattered or not," he laughed. "I can't get out of this shift, though. I told August I'd cover for him."

Emma pressed her forehead against her locker. "I should just tell Neal not to come, it's going to be so awkward now."

"Emma, don't worry about it. I get off at 6, I can come over after that, if you want."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?!"

He laughed. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

She smiled back at him. "Shut up. And…thank you."

"No problem, Swan."

He went through his shift with only one thing on his mind: the fact that Neal was over at Emma's house, where he should be: sitting next to her on the couch, probably laughing with her in the kitchen, maybe even sitting in her room. The thought made him almost _jealous._

As soon as his shift was over, he rode his bike over to her house as fast as he could.

"Killian, how nice to see you," Mary Margaret said as he came inside. "I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna come by today."

"Nice to see you as well, Ms. Nolan," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. She was as much a mother figure to him as any, considering his own had died when he was a baby.

"I just got off work and thought I'd still stop by."

She gave him her signature sweet smile. "Well, I'm certainly glad you did. Emma and Neal are in the living room watching a movie. You can go on in."

He walked down the hall towards the living room, and as he turned the corner, he saw them sitting on the couch. Emma's head popped up first and a smile stretched across her face.

"Hey you," she said. "It's about time. Come sit with us!"

He walked over and sat in the armchair, next to the side of the couch where Emma was sitting. He nodded at Neal to acknowledge him.

"Neal."

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Not much. What have you guys been up to?"

Emma answered. "Not much. We went out for a walk while it was nice, but then it looked like it was about to rain, so we came back, and now we're just watching a movie. How was work?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Busy. It wasn't too bad, though. It went by fast."

Emma turned to Neal. "He works at the Magic Bean."

"The coffee place?" Neal asked.

Killian nodded at him. Neal gave an approving look and then turned his attention back to the movie.

Emma looked up at Killian, whose expression was hard to read. She could tell he was studying Neal closely, trying to figure him out. He finally realized that she was watching him, and then he sort of laughed. They didn't need words to communicate.

His eyebrows arched up as if to ask, _"Well, did he ask?"_

Emma shook her head and then shrugged her shoulders.

He relaxed then, sinking back into the couch. He looked up at the screen, and then got excited when he realized what they were watching.

"Woah, is this Inception?"

"Yeah, man," Neal said. "You like this movie, too?"

"I fuckin love this movie, mate. Good choice."

Maybe Neal wasn't so bad after all. He looked over at Emma, and she looked…_happy._ It was all he could really ask for.

As they were both leaving later that night, Killian was unlocking his bike from the fence, and Neal walked over to him.

"Hey, Killian?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"I just wanted to say thanks, for hanging out with us. Emma was really tense until you got there. You helped her to relax a little."

Killian smiled. "No big deal. I'm over there almost every day anyway, it's not surprising she feels comfortable around me."

"Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you. I sort of…have a thing for Emma."

He tried to act surprised. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Neal replied. "And I just gotta know, is there anything going on between you guys? Like, am I barking up the wrong tree here?"

_Fuck_. He should have seen that coming.

Killian scratched behind his ear. "Afraid not. Emma and I have been friends for a really long time, but it's nothing more than that."

What he'd wanted to say was: _Not yet. _

Neal smiled. "Thank god," he said. "Cause I want to ask her to prom."

"Go for it," Killian answered. "I think she's expecting you to."

"For real?"

"Uhh, yeah," Killian sighed. _How dumb was this guy?_ He couldn't blame him, though. No one knew Emma as well as he did. "She invited you over, mate. She doesn't usually do that."

"You know her really well, don't you?" Neal asked. "How do you think I should ask her? I was thinking of getting her some flowers and leaving them at her locker. But I don't even know what kind is her favorite…"

"Look, Neal, I really don't-"

Neal held his hands up as if to stop him. "No, you're right. It's okay. I'll figure something out. But hey man, thanks for being so cool. To be honest, you really scared me at first. I definitely thought you and Emma already had a thing going, anyone can see how close you guys are."

Killian tossed his backpack over his shoulder and walked over to Neal.

"You're right. I do know her really well," he said. "And you don't have any reason to feel threatened by me. Unless you hurt Emma in any way, **then** you can feel free to fear for your life."

Neal laughed nervously. "Right, got it."

"Glad we had this chat," Killian smiled sarcastically, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll see you around, Neal."

"See ya, Killian."

Neal turned away from him and started walking down the street. Killian started to feel a little pang of guilt for not helping him out, only because he knew that his actions would make their way back to Emma in some way, and he would do anything it took to see her happy.

"Hydrangeas!" he yelled out.

Neal turned around, confused. "What?"

"Hydrangeas," he yelled again. "Those are her favorite flowers…the blue ones."

Neal nodded. "Thanks man."

Killian sighed and hopped on his bike, and didn't stop until he got home.

Emma was beaming the next day at lunch. He hadn't seen her since their walk to school that morning, because he got sucked into helping August finish a last minute project he'd forgotten to do.

"Someone's having a good day," he noted, setting his tray down and sitting next to her.

Emma smiled. "Neal asked me to prom this morning."

"Well, good for you, Swan. How'd he do it?"

She reached down into her backpack and pulled out a small stem of blue hydrangeas. "He'd left these taped to my locker with a note," she said with a grin. "I don't know how he knew these were my favorite…must have asked my mom or something."

"Must have," Killian replied.

"Anyway," she continued. "The note said to meet him outside near the fountain, and so I did. He was waiting out there for me, and then he asked me."

"How romantic," Killian chimed.

"Shut up," Emma laughed. "It was really sweet. I told him yes."

"Well, you kids have fun with that."

"Killian, seriously," she whined. "You should go. If you find a date, we can all go together and laugh about how stupid the whole thing is."

His voice raised a little in frustration, startling both of them.

"Swan, I'm not going. There's no point."

"What do you mean?"

He caught her eyes for a moment, and didn't know what to say. Turning back to his tray of food, he shook his head.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit," Emma said. "What's up with you?"

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just been a long day today. I didn't sleep so well last night."

"Well snap out of it," she said. "I could really use my best friend right now."

"He's still here, love," he said, smiling at her.

She smiled back as she stole a french fry from his tray. "Good."

The days leading up to prom were almost insufferable. Every time Killian would walk over to their lockers, Neal would be standing there with Emma. He never saw her like this-open, flirty, excited. And for what? A stupid school dance? Their classmates all knew that Emma and Neal were talking now, and it was all anyone ever seemed to care to talk about. Frankly, he was sick of hearing about it. He actually looked forward to going to work after school those last few weeks, because then he didn't have to see Neal so much. The downside was that he didn't see Emma as much, either.

The day of prom had the whole school bustling. For once, on his last trip to the lockers, she was there alone.

"Hey, stranger," she said. "Everything okay?"

"Hey Swan. Yeah, I'm fine…just been picking up some extra shifts at work, that's all. Are you ready for tonight?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess. My mom helped me pick out a dress last week and everything."

"Let me guess…blue?" he asked with a smile.

"How'd you know?" she smiled.

"It's your color, Swan. Your favorite, I mean."

"Okay, yes. The dress is blue. It's a shame you won't get to see it, though. You'd laugh…I look like a puffy blue cloud in that thing…it's completely ridiculous."

"I doubt that very much. I'm sure you'll look great. I'm sorry I have to miss it, though."

Emma's eyes fell onto something behind him, and he turned to see Neal coming their way.

He closed his locker and started to walk away.

"Have fun tonight, Swan."

"Thanks…" she said as she watched him leave.

She sat in front of her vanity later that afternoon as her mother pinned up her hair. Emma had wanted her hair up, with loose braids and curls. When it was done, she looked positively mystical. Her dress was a classic ball gown, in a beautiful dusty shade of blue. She looked like Cinderella. Her mother placed a thin, sparkling tiara on top of her head when she was done. "There," she said. "Now you really look like a princess. Now let's get some pictures before Neal and Killian show up."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Killian's not going, Mom."

Her mom didn't hide her disappointment. "Oh, why not?"

"I don't know," Emma sighed. "He just didn't want to."

"Do you think," her mom started, "that it maybe has something to do with Neal?"

"Mom, I've told you a thousand times. Killian and I are just friends. Plus he likes Neal. I think…"

"I like Neal, too, but…he's no Killian, that's for sure. All I'm saying is," her mom answered, "your father and I were best friends before we started dating, too. It's not that unusual."

"No, Mom. Killian and I are different. I don't see him like that…"

Her mind trailed off to that time he helped her study, and how handsome he looked, and how much that realization had scared her.

She straightened herself out. "He's my best friend. That's it."

"Okay," Mary Margaret said, defeated. "Whatever you say."

Neal picked up Emma shortly after that, and they met up with some friends for dinner before heading over to the school for the dance. He was being extremely sweet and super awkward. It was great, but Emma couldn't help but wonder what Killian was up to while they were out.

The gymnasium had been transformed into a completely different space. There were thousands of twinkling lights strung over the ceiling, tons of tables set up with beautiful ornate centerpieces, and a huge dance floor, right in the middle. There was even a photo booth set up for picture taking.

The dancing had already started, the room buzzing with the music. It was exciting, and everyone seemed to be having fun.

Neal led Emma out to the dance floor. They had found their bunch of friends and just jumped right in, laughing and jumping along with the music. Emma decided to just stop thinking about what Killian was up to, and try to enjoy her night while it lasted. If he wanted to stay at home and brood, then he could. But she didn't have to do the same.

Eventually the DJ turned it down to a slower song, and Neal said, "I don't really know how to slow dance…wanna get something to drink instead?"

Emma looked disappointed. "Oh, come on, let's at least try."

Neal shook his head and Emma gave in. But as they started to leave the dance floor, a familiar voice spoke up behind Emma, with an accent she recognized in an instant. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

It was Killian. He was there, and walking towards her, stretching out his hand for her to take.

"Allow me."


	3. Three

"Damn thing," he groaned.

He'd been trying to figure out how to put on his tie correctly for about 15 minutes, and was starting to have second thoughts about going after all.

He gave up on the tie with a huff and collapsed onto his bed, wondering what she was doing at that very moment. (Probably out to dinner with Neal and his friends or something. Whatever it was, he hoped she was having fun).

Liam casually strolled up to his doorway. "Hey Killian," he said peeking into the room, "I was wondering if you could help me with-" his voice stopped abruptly when he saw Killian in a tux. "Well, well," he snickered, "don't you look _dashing." _

"Shut up," Killian huffed, sitting up to look at him.

"Going somewhere special, mate?"

"Prom."

"Ah," Liam laughed. "I remember those days. They were truly," he hesitated, "…well, they were the worst."

Killian chuckled. " Well, dear brother, you weren't as good looking as me, so, that probably had something to do with it."

Liam smiled. "Says the guy who can't even tie his own tie. You're pathetic, Jones. Come here."

Killian begrudgingly stood up and faced his brother, who began twisting and tying his tie.

"So," Liam said casually, "when are you picking up Emma?"

"I'm not."

"What do you mean?"

"We're not going together, mate."

Liam shot him a confused look. "Well if you're not going with Emma, who's your date?"

"You're looking at them."

Liam shook his head. "Did you even ask her?"

"Liam, why do you have this idea that Emma and I always have to be together?"

"Because you do."

Killian just smiled at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

He turned in his ticket at the entrance, all the while letting his eyes scan the crowd for her. There was no sign of them yet.

He said hello to a few classmates as he made his way through the crowd, always looking out for anyone in a blue dress, just in case it was her.

He found a table near the back of the gym, and sipped on some water to calm himself down while he waited. He was nervous to see her, but more of an excited-nervous than anything. But he had no idea what he was going to say to her when she did show up.

Part of him wanted to do the crazy thing and just **tell her**. Tell her that he was falling for her, or that maybe he already had. But there was no way that she was ready to hear any of that.

Nevertheless, she would probably be leaving town soon for college, and he didn't want to part from her without her knowing. Life was short, and there was only so much time he could waste.

For tonight, he would just do his best to make sure she was having a good time. The stress of senior year had been tough on her. She'd worked so hard, and she deserved this.

After a little while, he noticed a flash of blonde hair against baby blue in the crowd and he just _knew. _It was Emma. He stood to get a better look at her, and was stopped right in his tracks.

She was a breathtaking vision in her dress. Not like a "puffy cloud" at all…more like the princess he had always imagined her to be when they were kids. She was truly the most beautiful girl in the entire gym, he was sure of it.

He couldn't tell from the expression on her face whether or not she was happy, though. At first, it seemed like she wasn't. Like she was nervous, or like her thoughts were somewhere else. It was a long shot, but he wondered if she was thinking about him.

Once she got to the dance floor, though, her whole demeanor changed. She was dancing, laughing, having a great time. The sight warmed him. Her smile was his favorite thing in all the world. The only thing was, he kept missing it, because the crowd of people was moving so much, and she kept getting lost in all of it.

"Well," he said to himself. "Here goes nothing."

He jumped into the first open spot he could find, and did the best he could to wade through the sea of people between them. He tried to keep his eyes on her. Her blonde curls kept bobbing up and down, her blue dress spinning and shining.

Finally, after having to awkwardly dance around people he didn't know, he was close enough to see her. He just had to wait for the right moment.

Soon enough, the music moved into a slower song. People started to leave the dance floor to take a break, including Neal and Emma. He had to strain, but he could just make out what they were saying:

"I don't really know how to slow dance…"

"Oh, come on…at least try!"

_This is it, Jones. This is your chance._

Tentatively, he took a step forward towards her, the words spilling out before he could realize what he was saying.

"Allow me."

Emma spun around, her eyes growing as wide as her smile. He felt like his heart had lunged out of his chest.

She shouted over the music in surprise. "Killian?! What the hell are you doing here?"

He just laughed and stretched out his hand. "Well I was hoping I could dance with you, Swan." He looked over to Neal and shouted to him. "Just one dance, mate, and she's all yours." Neal nodded back and after mumbling something to Emma he couldn't hear, walked away.

Emma took Killian's hand as he led her out to the floor, smiling suspiciously the whole time. She had tried to ignore it, but the butterflies in her stomach did all kinds of flips and turns at the sight of him.

Killian pulled her towards him, placing one hand on her back and holding the other in his own. She rested her other hand on his shoulder, and they relaxed into each other's arms. Together, they moved along to the music.

_**Do you know where your heart is?**_

_**Do you think you can find it?**_

As they swayed and spun and occasionally stepped on the other's foot, they continued to talk.

"Are you surprised? That I'm here I mean," he asked, his face dangerously close to hers.

"Yeah. You made it seem like you wouldn't come within 100 feet of this place."

"Are you happy I'm here?"

"Of course I am. Killian?"

"Yeah, love?"

"What are you doing here? Tell me, for real."

"Oh," he smiled. "I just decided to come last minute. I didn't want to miss out on all the fun."

Emma scoffed. "Bullshit. Don't even try it, Jones. You and I both know you have to rent those tuxes weeks in advance."

He smiled and looked down and Emma couldn't help but trace his jawline with her eyes.

_God, he looks handsome tonight. Dammit._

"Quite perceptive, Swan," he said. "You'll make quite the criminal justice major next year."

"Whatever," she laughed.

The conversation lulled as the song continued.

_**Do you know what your fate is?**_

_**And are you trying to shake it?**_

_**You're doing your best dance,**_

_**Your best look**_

_**You're praying that you make it**_

Each of them had become aware of how close they were dancing, but neither seemed to want to move away from the other.

Killian especially, had to stop himself from looking at her too much. But every once in a while he'd smile at her and she'd smile back. When she did, it took every bit of restraint in him not to kiss her right then and there. God only knew what her reaction would be.

His hand felt so…_right _in her own. And he was holding her close enough that she could smell him, too. Whatever cologne he was wearing was doing wonders, tempting her beyond all reasonable thought. But his scent was still there, too. Scents of salty skin and coffee beans and faint cigarette smoke. Scents of blue crayons and rooftop stargazing and 7:45 hot chocolate. This guy who was holding her in his arms, he was different. He was her Killian, to be sure, but being this close to him was making her feel…_things_. Things that she had no idea how to explain.

_What if it could always be like this? _She thought. _What if this turns into something more?_

She shook off the thought, and after a minute or two, spoke up again.

"You look really nice, by the way."

"As do you, Swan. Quite took my breath away when I saw you."

"Thanks," she blushed as the music slowed to a stop.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Was this your first slow dance?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I guess it was."

He smiled. "Me too."

* * *

As the song ended, Killian pulled her into a hug before she could move away, which she warmly accepted. That wasn't something they usually did, but it felt like the natural thing to do.

But Killian feared he may have held on a moment too long, because Neal was making his way over to them as soon as an opening cleared in the dance floor.

He walked up to them, two drinks in hand. He gave one to Emma, and said, "You guys make quite the pair out there."

Emma sensed the faint jealousy in his tone, and changed the subject immediately.

"You wanna go get some pictures taken or something?"

Neal shrugged. "Sure, why not."

As they turned to walk towards the booth, Killian stopped.

"Well, I should probably get going," he said.

"What?" Emma questioned. "You just got here!"

He scratched behind his ear and rocked back and forth on his heels. He always did that when he wasn't sure what to say.

"Yeah, well," he started, "I told Liam I'd help him with something and he's expecting me."

"Oh come on," she whined. "At least get some pictures taken before you go."

He sighed and then looked at her for a moment. She held his gaze, and then her lips turned out and downward into a puppy dog pout.

"Alright, fine. Let's go," he laughed.

Together the three of them walked over to the photo booth line. Some of Neal's friends were in line in front of them, so Killian took the opportunity to talk to Emma while he was occupied.

"Swan?"

"What?"

"We're not _all _going to try and fit in that booth are we?"

"No, idiot," she laughed. "Neal and I will go first and then you and me."

"Perfect. I get sloppy seconds," he joked.

Emma just smiled. "You're unbelievable."

The line grew shorter, and they took a few steps closer to the booth.

"You never answered my question," she noted.

"What question, love?"

"Why did you really come tonight?"

"Ah," he said. "To be honest, I just wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you were having a good time. Tell me, has Neal been treating you well?"

"Do you think I'd be here with him if he didn't?"

Killian laughed a little at that. "Of course not. You don't take shit from anybody."

(He loved that about her).

"Damn right," she smiled, and then continued. "Thank you, for looking out for me though."

They smiled at each other then, and the gaze was only broken when Neal spoke up.

"Hey, Emma-it's our turn to go."

Killian stood awkwardly outside the booth as he watched them both go in. After a minute, Emma pulled back the curtain and then waved for him to come inside.

It was a tiny booth- her damn dress was talking up majority of the space. He squeezed in next to her. He liked it in there, though. He was close to her, and there was no one else around. Just the two of them, like it was always supposed to be.

"Okay," she said. "The timer will countdown from 3 and then take a picture. I think it takes like 3 or 4 pictures. Ready?"

"Ready as ever."

She reached over and pressed the start button, and the little red light flashed 3 times, snapping a picture.

"Shit, I think I blinked," Killian laughed.

Emma laughed, too. The found themselves laughing harder and then realized that the second picture had already been taken.

"Crap!" Emma laughed. "We're terrible at this…okay try to take a normal one now."

They huddled close together. He reached his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close to him, planting a kiss on her temple for the next picture.

"Okay one more," she said.

For this one, he just looked at her as she smiled into the camera. She really was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

* * *

Emma finally got home around 3 in the morning. She popped into her parent's room, just to say goodnight, and then shuffled down the hall towards her room.

After taking off her gown, she showered and got ready for bed, her head still spinning from the whole evening. All in all, it had been a great night. One of the best she'd had in a while.

And it was all because of him.

She collapsed onto her bed, feet aching from all the dancing. Her eyes were heavy, but as she rolled over to fall asleep, she noticed something on her nightstand.

Sticking out of her purse were her copies of the photo booth pictures from the evening. She flicked on the light and pulled them out to get a better look.

The first set - her and Neal - were okay. They mostly just looked awkward and had the same expressions in each picture.

But when she flipped to the second set – hers and Killian's- a huge smile crept onto her face. The first two were ridiculous- his eyes were closed in one, and in the other they were laughing, which made it all blurry. But the last two were not so messy.

They were wonderful.

In the third, he was kissing her temple, and she was smiling wide with her eyes closed, holding onto his arm around her and just enjoying the moment. She remembered feeling the heat of his kiss there, and how good it felt. And then she remembered how much that scared her.

The last picture is probably what scared her most of all, though. She was smiling at the camera, and he was smiling at her. The look on his face took her breath away. No one had ever looked at her like that before…like she was one who hung the stars at night.

For the second time that night she thought, "_What if it could always be like this?"_

But the thought was too strange and too scary to think about, so she stuck both strips of photographs into her nightstand drawer and turned off the light, thinking of dancing and laughter and music as sleep slowly pulled her under.


	4. Four

"I'm just worried about her, that's all."

David is sitting next to his wife on the couch, his arm hung over her shoulders.

"She's going to be fine David. You'll see."

"Why did she have to pick criminal justice for a major? Why couldn't she be a teacher like you?"

"Well," Mary Margaret answers, "she's always been a daddy's girl."

He smiles. "That's true. I just don't want her to get hurt, I guess. This line of work isn't easy. And it doesn't exactly pay well…I don't know how we're going to afford it if she gets into that school in New York. Maybe she could get a summer job to help out. "

"It pays better than mine!" Mary Margaret laughed. "As far as the money, she's got financial aid coming either way, and she's nominated for a scholarship, too."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"And as far as her future job," she continues, "she's a tough girl. I wouldn't worry too much."

"I can't help it," he says, placing a kiss onto his wife's temple. "She's our little girl."

"She's not so little anymore. I can't believe she's graduating high school tomorrow."

David sighs. "Don't remind me."

Emma smiles at them from down the hall, and goes back into her room.

* * *

The day of graduation had finally come. Their last day of school had been a week earlier. It was a bittersweet sort of day: Killian still showed up with her hot chocolate, as usual. It only hit them when they got to school, that it was the last time he would ever be able to do that.

"_I'm going to miss morning walks with you, Swan."_

"_Me too." _

It was like the end of an era, really. It was hard to believe that this part of her life was now over, and that she'd be in a completely different place in only a few months' time. It was scary, facing her future like this, but it was just part of growing up. She knew that.

The graduation was held inside the gymnasium. Parents and families slowly began to fill the seats, and there was a tense excitement in the air for all of the graduates. They'd been working for over a decade for this moment.

The graduate's march begins to play, and Emma checks her phone to make sure it's silenced, only to see a new message from Killian.

**(10:03 AM) KILLIAN:** _Here we go, Swan. See you out there. _

She smiles, sending a quick reply.

**(10:04 AM) EMMA:** _Look for me when you're up on stage!_

**(10:04 AM) KILLIAN:** _Always _

Emma silences her phone and tucks it into her pocket, having just enough time to straighten her cap and gown before walking out.

The sight of the gym packed with so many smiling faces and happy tears just about takes her breath away. Her eyes scan the crowd for her family, who she finally spots in the section across from where she was sitting. Her father looks so proud, and she could see that her mother was already crying. She feels a surge of love and appreciation for them, knowing that there was no way she could have gotten this far without them.

She thinks of Killian, and how he must feel knowing that his parents weren't there to see him graduate. If his mother was still alive, she would have been there. And his father, well…god knows where he was right about then.

But he still had Liam. He was sitting next to Emma's mom, beaming and hollering for his little brother as they all found their seats.

As the ceremony begins, Emma tries to find Killian in the sea of black caps and gowns, but with no luck. She pulls out her phone to send a quick text.

**(10:15 AM) EMMA:** _Where are you? I can't see you._

**(10:17 AM) KILLIAN:** _5__th__ row back, over to the right. _

**(10:18 AM) EMMA:** _Ah, gotcha!_

The key note speaker is Archie Hopper, the school counselor. He gives a pretty typical speech as far as graduations go-

"_You should be proud of all your accomplishments…"_

"_You can change the world…"_

"_Never give up on your dreams…"_

His speech seems to drag on for ages. Emma plays with her hands, and the hem of her gown, eager for the staff to start off the diplomas and call out names. As she looks down, she notices the light from her phone blinking in her pocket.

**(10:42 AM) KILLIAN:** _Zzzzz…._

**(10:43 AM) EMMA:** _Tell me about it. _

Finally, Archie wraps up his speech. The principal, Kathryn Griffith, steps up to the podium.

"Thank you, Dr. Hopper. Now before we hand out diplomas, we have some awards to present!"

**(10:55 AM) KILLIAN:** _Good luck, Swan. I've got my fingers crossed for you!_

"First, we would like to present the Storybrooke High scholarship for track and field, which is a total of one thousand, to…Ms. Ruby Hood."

The crowd erupts with praise as Ruby makes her way down to the stage.

"Next, we'd like to present the Storybrooke High academic scholarship, totaling one thousand, five hundred, to a student who has shown exemplary marks and has shown considerable drive and determination these last four years…"

Emma braces herself. This was it.

"…to Ms. Emma Nolan."

Her classmates around her cheer, alerting her to the fact that she'd just won. Redness rises within her cheeks as she walks up the ramp to the podium. A quick handshake, the flash of a camera, and it was over.

She is almost back to her seat when the principal continues.

"We have one more award to present this year. This is the first year we have ever awarded this, but as times change, so must we. We have recently connected with Storybrooke College, our very own local community college. Many of our students will be attending there next year in lieu of University. This last award, totaling one thousand dollars, will be awarded to one of those students. This is a student who has shown considerable growth, both academically and personally over their high school career. This student is one who shows great work ethic, both in school and outside of it, and also has strong character. On behalf of Storybrooke High, it is my pleasure to award this scholarship…to Mr. Killian Jones."

Emma's heart swells with pride. She's surprised, but also not surprised at the same time. She curves her hands around her mouth and shouts out, "Go Killian!"

The crowd goes wild. Everyone is in support of him, and it takes everything she has not to start crying. Killian may not have been the most popular guy in school, but everyone knew him. He was just one of those people, who never really got into trouble, could make anyone laugh, and was friendly with just about everyone. He may not have always had perfect grades, but he deserved this nonetheless.

The cheers die down, and the principal begins calling out names for diplomas. One by one, the students walk across the stage, smiling and cheering for one another. When Killian's name is called, she waits until he's on stage, and then sends out a whistle for him, just to see his smile.

His eyes catch hers, and he does.

Outside the gym, she pushes through the crowd of her former classmates to look for him.

Everyone is so elated, happy and excited, it was contagious.

She hears him calling out for her.

"Emma! Over here!"

She turns, just as he is scooping her up into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck and laughs, hugging him tightly. She has to shout over the crowd as he brings her back down.

"Congratulations! I'm so proud of you!"

He just laughs, trying to modestly shrug it off. "Thank you! You too."

They eventually find the edge of the crowd, where her parents and Liam are waiting. Liam pulls his brother into a swift hug, patting him on the back.

"Too bad you're not old enough to drink, little brother. I'd take you out for a pint to celebrate!"

Emma's parents pull her in for one, too. Her mother speaks with a shaky tone, trying to stop from crying. "Emma, baby, we're so proud of you…"

Emma tries not to laugh. "Mom, stop…you're embarrassing me…"

David plants a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "Love you, Emma."

"I love you guys, too."

* * *

The next few weeks of summer were wonderful. Killian still had to work down at the coffee shop, but he took a few extra days off to relax. Any spare moment they had, they spent together. They would spend afternoons by the shoreline, reading and swimming and lounging. Sometimes Neal would come, too, just as a friend. Nothing had really happened between him and Emma after Prom.

Killian had the smallest flicker of hope that it was because he had shown up…that maybe, just maybe, Emma was starting to feel differently about him. But if she was starting to feel differently, he'd never know. Emma wasn't one to lay her feeling out in the open. She'd always been that way. He, on the other hand, had always worn his heart on his sleeve. The more time they spent together, the harder it was for him to keep his true feelings to himself. _Before the summer was over, he would tell her._ That was his plan, anyway.

There were a few times that he had tried to bring it up, but each failed miserably. The timing was never right, or she would change the subject. It was almost as if she saw it coming every time.

The first time was on the last day of school, before they walked in. She was finishing up her hot chocolate, when he stopped behind her. She noticed, and turned towards him.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He scratched behind his ear nervously. "Yeah, I uh...Can I talk to you about something?"

"We're already late, Killian. Can it wait?"

"It's the last bloody day of school, Swan. It doesn't matter."

"That's exactly why it matters!" she laughed. "Can you tell me later?"

He shook his head and obliged, walking in after her.

The second time was when she had come to visit him at work.

She walked up to the counter smiling. "Hey stranger."

His eyes lit up when he saw her. He had been in the groove working, and didn't even notice when she'd strolled in.

"Hey, you," he smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Just coming to say hi…and maybe get some free coffee?"

He laughed. "You're pathetic, Nolan. Just admit it. You've been using me for the free drinks all this time."

"Just an extra perk of being your best friend," she smiled.

"Give me fifteen minutes. I'll be taking my break then and I can bring you something."

"Mk," she answered. "Make it something sweet."

"You got it."

He met her outside on the patio.

"Thank you," she says, taking the drink from him. She takes a sip, her eyes rolling back into her head. "Sweet jesus that's good. You're the best."

"What can I say?" he smiles. "I know what you like."

"So how's work been today?" she asks, continuing to sip on her icy concoction.

"Fine. Better now that you're here."

She blushes, setting her drink down for a moment.

"Do you think you'll still work here next semester?"

"Not sure yet," he answers. "Technically, I have a few years until that scholarship expires, so I could work and save some money first, then use it up. I've no idea what I want to study, anyway."

"You could study music," she notes. "You're really good at it."

"Yeah, I thought about that. But I would hate for school to ruin my love for it, you know?"

She nods. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I guess only time will tell," he says.

"Guess so."

They sit there like that for a minute or two, just enjoying the sunshine and the birds chirping nearby.

_This could be it, Jones, _he thought._ You know you want to tell her. You've got a few minutes left…why not give it a shot?_

He clears his throat, bracing himself for what he is (hopefully) about to say.

"Emma?"

"What's up?"

"You and I, we've been friends for as long as I can remember…"

His voice trails off, his nerves unsettling, his palms growing sweaty.

"Yeah…" Emma says. "What's your point, Jones?"

"Well," he continues, "we've both grown up so much since that day you gave me that blue crayon, and-"

"You remember that?" she asks.

Her question takes him aback. "How could I possibly forget that? It was the most important moment of my life. Well, other than right now."

Her expression turns then. Emma was intuitive, that's for sure, and she slowly began to pick up on what he was trying to say. Thankfully for her, he never got around to it.

"What are you talking about?" she asks nervously.

"Emma, I don't know how to say this, but-"

Just then, her phone begins buzzing, startling them both.

"Sorry," she winces. "It's my mom, I have to answer it."

He holds up his hand. "No, no, it's okay. I've got to go back to work anyway."

"We'll talk later?" she asks.

"Yeah, definitely."

He walks back into the café, and spends the rest of his shift beating himself up over the whole thing. _Are you crazy? You could have ruined everything._

He receives a text from Emma before he leaves work.

**(10:04 PM) EMMA: **_hey, we need to talk._

_Shit, _he thinks. _This can't be good._

**(10:05 PM) KILLIAN:** _what about, love?_

He waits nervously for her reply, every minute making him more and more anxious.

His phone buzzes.

**(10:20 PM) EMMA:** _everything._

**(10:11 PM) KILLIAN:** _I'll be right over._

He feels like a ton of bricks had landed on his chest. _Shit. _He had fucked up the timing and now _she knew _and what if she didn't feel the same way? What if he had ruined everything?

He locks up the café before hopping on his bike and making his way to the Nolan's house.


	5. Five

His mind is racing as he walks to her door. He has no clue what he's going to say to her if she asks him about their earlier conversation. This is not how he wanted to tell her.

It's late, so he sends a text.

**(10:40 PM) KILLIAN:** _I'm here. _

A few moments later, Emma opens the door. She steps out onto the front porch, and under the light, he can see that she's been crying. Maybe this isn't about him after all.

"Thanks for coming by," she says through a sniffle.

This is not the Emma he is used to seeing. He almost never sees her cry-she's a tough lass, she never shows her weaknesses. He knows that deep down, she doesn't like being vulnerable, because she doesn't want to set herself up for disappointment. She is always on guard, always prepared to protect herself if necessary. But this girl standing before him was not that Emma. This Emma is utterly broken.

"Emma, what's wrong?"

She takes out a piece of paper from her pocket and unfolds it, handing it over to him.

"See for yourself."

He straightens out the wrinkled paper and begins to read. The letter head was from the school in New York where Emma had applied…her dream school.

"Dear Ms. Nolan," he began to read, "We regret to inform you that you have not yet been accepted into our University. You have been placed on the waitlist for this upcoming fall semester. Should you be accepted, we will be in contact with you."

"That's some shit, isn't it?" she scoffs. "I worked my ass off to get into that school. And it was all for nothing."

"Emma…I am so sorry."

"Me too."

"But it says here you're on the waitlist," he says, trying to console her. "So that means you still have a chance."

"They might as well have just told me no, Killian. I feel so stupid." Her eyes well up with tears again, and she slumps down on the front steps, covering her face with her hands.

He feels helpless. "You're not stupid, Swan."

What he had wanted to say was: _you're perfect._

He sits next to her, and pulls her close. "Everything's going to be fine. You'll see."

She sniffles and looks up at him. "But that was my dream school. It has been for years."

She looks so hurt, so broken, like her life had completely crumbled before her.

"It's not the only school in the country, Swan."

"I know, I know. I just really wanted that to be the one."

"I know you did," he says. Instinctively, he pulls down his shirt sleeve and uses it to wipe a tear off of her cheek. The gentle touch startles her, but she allows him to continue.

"Sometimes life doesn't work out how we imagined it would, but that doesn't mean it can't still be good. Maybe something even better will come along that you would have missed otherwise."

She nods, taking in his words like medicine. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just feeling sorry for myself I guess."

"It's okay to be disappointed," he adds. "But you can't let it keep you down. You're the strongest person I know, Swan. I know you'll come out on top no matter what you do."

At these words, her lips curl up into a smile. She wraps her arms around his waist and he pulls her close again. She rests her head on his chest and sighs with content.

"Thanks Killian. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He runs his palm over her hair gently. "And you will never have to know what that feels like, love, as long as I have a say in it."

He's always so supportive. Damn him. How was she supposed to live away from Storybrooke next year…away from _him_?

She hugs him tighter, and then sits up. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She looks at him and smiles.

"Hey what was it that you wanted to talk about earlier?" she asks.

"Nothing," he says. "Don't worry about it."

That was another conversation for another time. Right now, she just needed her friend. There on the porch, under the star spotted summer sky, she looked just like the princess she pretended to be when they were kids. Right now, she just needed her pirate to save her. He didn't want to burden her with anything else tonight.

"Well then," she says. "Wanna come inside for a bit? We had a late dinner but I didn't eat anything because I was upset…now I'm just hungry."

"Of course," he says, standing up. He stands by the door and stretches out his hand. "After you, m'lady."

He can just see the corners of her lips turn up as she passes him in the doorway.

The summer continued, its days stretching out like long yawns. To make some extra cash for school, Emma picked up a job waiting tables at Granny's. She only worked a few days a week, but was finding it hard to spend time with Killian, whose own work schedule was always different from her own. The coffee shop wasn't far from the diner, though, so she would often walk over while she was on her break, just to see him.

One such occasion was on the afternoon of July 4th, when Emma got off early for the holiday celebrations. Killian was outside, putting up new flyers on the café's community bulletin board.

"What's that?" she asks.

"Oh, hey Swan. Just some flyers for a little event I'm putting together."

"You? They put you in charge of something?" she laughs.

"Oh, ha-ha," he mocks. "It was my idea."

"Well what is it?"

He smiles. "An open mic night…sort of like karaoke, but classier. Local musicians can come and play here for free."

"Nice. Are you going to sing?"

"Probably not," he sighs. "I'll be running around making sure everything is going according to plan. You should come, though. It'll be fun."

He most certainly **was** planning to sing that night. In fact, that was the whole reason he set up the event, so that he could invite _her_. So that he could sing _for her_. He was going to use the opportunity to finally tell her how he feels. He just had to keep it in until then.

She checks the calendar on her phone.

"Of course I will!" she smiles. "I'll just have to make sure I take off work. When is it?"

"Next Friday."

"Shit, that's really soon. I'll ask Ruby if she can cover it and I'll let you know tonight."

"What's tonight?" he asks.

"It's July 4th, what do you mean 'what's tonight?'" she laughs.

"Oh god, I totally forgot. You know I'll be there."

Emma smiles. "Good. Alright well, I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me for the family cookout."

"Try not to look too excited," he laughs.

She rolls her eyes and then turns, walking back into the center of town.

He wonders to himself if he can wait a whole week to tell her.

_You've waited a decade, Jones. You can wait one more week. Just try to make it through tonight without making a fool of yourself. _

As she walked home, she took in the town in all its festive glory. She was excited to be living somewhere new in the fall, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't sad about leaving this town. This was her home. Her parents were here, and so was Killian. They were her pillars in life. She had no idea what it would be like to be out in the world on her own, without any of them around to guide her.

But though Storybrooke had its charms, Emma didn't want to stay there forever. She wanted to explore and see what the rest of the world had to offer. But that desire didn't come without its fears. She was afraid to lose her home, to lose herself. But mostly, she was afraid of losing Killian.

Whenever she gets these thoughts, she pushes them out of her mind, and tries to concentrate on the present- the here and now, and make the most of it while she's got it. Like tonight, when Killian will be joining her for their annual 4th of July tradition of watching the fireworks from the shoreline.

She was planning on telling him the good news- that she had chosen the school in Boston, and would be sending in her acceptance letter in the morning.


	6. Six

_**First of all, thank you all so much for your reviews and kind words! I'm having a lot of fun writing this fic, and I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read it. Enjoy this next chapter…things are about to get real!**_

* * *

It had happened so fast.

He didn't sleep that night, but just kept replaying the moment over and over in his head: her eyes sparkling under the moonlight, the sound of the shoreline, her hand in his hair…

It was not supposed to happen like that.

But it did.

* * *

She's relaxed, her toes dug deep into the sand when he finally gets to the beach.

"Hey you!" she calls out.

"Sorry I'm late," he says. "Had to close up the café."

Emma smiles as he sits down next to her on the blanket. "It's okay. At least tell me you brought something."

He grins mischievously. "Of course I did."

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a six pack of ice cold beer. It was the cheap stuff, but that was usually all Liam could afford. For the last few years, he'd taken a pack down to the beach for them, and they'd drink and while they watched the fireworks. This year was no different.

Killian pops open a beer for her, and then one for himself. She raises her drink towards him.

"To…uh…" she starts, "to independence."

"To rebellion," he laughs.

Their glasses clink, and they each take a swig. He finishes his drink much quicker than she does (she's such a lightweight). He sighs and lies back onto the blanket, lighting a cigarette. They sit in silence, listening to the waves lap against the shore as they wait for the fireworks to begin.

She barely gets halfway through her drink when the show starts. She chugs the rest of the beer and tosses the bottle in the sand. Lying next to him, she turns her eyes upward, watching as the fireworks light up the sky. It's a beautiful sight, and she can't help but smile.

She feels his arm brush hers, and she turns to look at him.

His eyes are still looking up toward the sky, and she can see the exploding lights reflected in them. As she looks at him, time seems to slow to a stop. It suddenly hits her that this is one of those fleeting moments, and this feeling of happiness she has isn't going to last. _Because nothing ever does._

_Your childhood is over. Everything is going to change._

Soon she's thinking about college and leaving town and what it will be like to say goodbye to him and she can't see his face clearly anymore because her eyes are blurry with tears.

He can't hear her sniffles over the booms and fizzles of the fireworks. When the show's finally over, he exclaims with a smile,

"That was brilliant, huh, Swan?"

But he hears nothing but the waves. When she doesn't answer, he turns to look at her. Her eyes are closed, but he can see the tear tracks on her cheek. He sits up, alarmed.

"Emma, what is it?"

Her eyes flitter open and she sighs, trying to control it. She sits up and wipes her face. "I'm sorry, it's nothing."

But he knows her better than that. "No, it's not nothing, love. Talk to me."

She looks at him, allowing herself just one more time to be vulnerable.

"I was just thinking," she sighs, "about time."

"Time?" he asks. "What do you mean?"

She sniffles and continues. "I was thinking about time passing. Like, our childhood for instance. We're never going to get that time back."

He isn't sure what to say.

"I guess I was just feeling nostalgic," she says. "And a little scared about all the changes happening this year."

He nods his head, finally understanding. "It's all part of growing up, Swan."

She smiles, rather pathetically. "I know. It's just sort of sad, that's all."

He knows exactly what she means, but he knows that there's nothing he can do about it. So he does what he can- he embraces her.

"Come here," he says, pulling her towards him.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he holds onto her. The closer it was to her move, the more affectionate they had become. It was as if they knew that they needed to take advantage of the time they still had together.

She's holding onto him, taking in every ounce of the moment that she can. She feels safe as his arms anchor her down, her tears slowing to a stop. When her breathing evens out, she sits back, but doesn't move away from him. They're close, so close that she can see the harbor lights in his eyes, along with something else.

_Desire._

She's looking at him, and can't look away. His hand rests on her cheek and she leans into it. She's aware of how handsome he suddenly looks in the moonlight –his dark hair falling over his face and his deep blue eyes searching her own. There's something in her that feels like it's pulling her towards him, like the ocean being pulled to the shore.

Before she has time to even think about throwing her walls back up, she's leaning forward, and her lips are brushing against his.

He doesn't respond at first, out of shock, but when she doesn't pull away, he melts into her kiss.

It's everything he's ever wanted. _Emma. _

His hand falls to her neck and he pulls her closer, parting her lips and kissing harder. Her hand finds its way to his hair, and that's when he finally pulls back. Her eyes peer into his and it's as if for the first time she realizes what's happening.

Her breathing gets heavy as the weight of her action finally hits her.

She tries to speak. "I….I'm…sorry. I have to go."

And just like that, she's standing up, throwing her things together as quickly as possible, and walking away as fast as she can.

_Emma, what the hell have you done?_

He calls out after her. "Emma, wait!"

But she doesn't stop.


	7. Seven

_**(Thanks again for all the lovely reviews. I appreciate it! This chapter is a bit longer, so enjoy! xoxoHannah)**_

Her eyes are burning with tears as she speeds down the street-the tires of her bike working furiously to get her home.

Her mind is spinning equally as fast, replaying the moment over and over.

The moment, in all of its heated hormonal glory, flashes back as she turns the last corner towards home. But it's all too much, and she finds herself skidding to a stop. She grips the handlebars and breathes deeply, waiting for her nerves to calm.

When they do, she tries to convince herself that she was imagining things. Surely she hadn't really done what she thinks she did. There was no way.

There was no way his eyes had been that blue. There was no way his hand had caressed her face. There was no way she had grabbed the collar of his Clash t-shirt and held onto it for dear life. There was no way she'd felt his stubble against her mouth as his lips met hers, and the way his hair touched her forehead as their faces twisted together. And there was _definitely _no way that her insides had melted when it did.

_Fuck._

Her foot pushes forward on the petal, and she keeps going.

* * *

He can't budge from their spot on the beach, likely from the shock of it all. He wasn't even sure that she had feelings for him like that…but it seemed as much a surprise to her as it did to him.

_There's no way that just happened_, he thinks. _Maybe this is all a dream._

_Fuck._

There was no way this could be a dream. Because if it were, she wouldn't have run away. She would have stayed there on the beach with him, kissing him into the starry oblivion.

He wants to run after her, but she looked so scared…not of him, but of herself. She needs the space and he knows that, so he stays.

He turns back to the waves instead. Closing his eyes and reaching his fingers to his lips, he listens to the sounds as he remembers the feeling of her skin against his, still hot in all the places she touched. The feeling is a lot like listening to the ocean. It surges forward, stopping your breath with its beauty and its fervor, and then taking it as the water pulls it all away…leaving you with nothing but a weathered down stone of a heart.

* * *

She doesn't speak to him for almost a week. She picks up her phone throughout the day and starts to text him, but then deletes the messages before ever pressing send.

She just feels so embarrassed. What on earth must he think of her right now? How would she have felt if he had just fucking kissed her out of the blue one day?

Then again, it wasn't like he pulled away from her or anything. It took a moment, but he had kissed her right back.

The thought flushes her cheeks, and she shakes it off.

She takes the long way to get to work, so she doesn't have to walk by the coffee shop. She keeps her blinds closed so that he knows it's not a good time to visit her rooftop. He's tried to call her a couple times, but other than that they haven't spoken.

And she's hated every second of it.

She knows their silence will end soon enough, but it's just a matter of where and when. But until she thinks long and hard about what she was going to say to him when the time comes, she would hold her tongue.

* * *

On Thursday afternoon while on a break from work, Emma sits out on the back steps behind the diner. She misses her walks over the coffee shop, laughing with Killian about stupid customers or just chatting away about random things so they don't have to think about work.

But since they weren't speaking at the moment, she had nowhere else to go. She goes out back just in case he considers coming there. And also because she couldn't go anywhere without being reminded of him. Even just being in the diner was hard. They'd shared many a grilled cheese and late nights studying in those booths, playing darts and pretending like they were so much older than they really were.

She sits down on the steps, exhausted from the usual lunch crowd. It's hot out, the late July sun streaming down on her. She thinks about him anyway, and wonders what he's doing at that moment. (Probably putting together some last minute preparations for the open mic night tomorrow-she still hadn't decided whether or not she was going because that would mean _seeing him and talking to him…was she ready for that?_). Just as she's about to move into the shade, Ruby walks out the door holding a large bag of trash.

"Oh hey Emma," she says, lifting the top of the dumpster and throwing the bag in.

"Hey."

"Why are you out here? It's too fucking hot."

"I know," Emma says. "I just didn't know where else to go. I needed some peace and quiet."

Ruby slumps down next to her. "Oh, I get that. Granny's driving me crazy today."

Emma laughs. "She's not so bad."

They sit there for just a moment, until Ruby speaks up again.

"Hey, uh, is everything alright? You seem a little…off lately."

Emma hesitates to answer truthfully. She and Ruby were acquaintances but hardly friends. They just work together. But fuck it, it's not like she has anyone else to talk to.

"Not really," she finally replies.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I usually would talk to Killian, but…it's about him this time."

"Well then why don't you talk to him?" Ruby suggests.

Emma sighs and rests her face in her hands. "Because I've fucked everything up."

"But you guys are so close," she starts. "I'm sure it's not that big of a deal."

Emma looks up at her, eyes unsure but trusting.

"I kissed him."

Ruby's eyes widen with shock. "Oh shit!"

Emma scoffs. "Yeah, I know."

"Do you like him?"

"He's my best friend, Ruby. My only friend really. I can't fuck this up. I don't' know why I did it or where it came from…but it happened."

Ruby smiles sympathetically. "Look, Emma I'm sure it's fine. Killian is a really sweet, really understanding person, and-"

"And what?" Emma asks.

Ruby hesitates, but then continues. "And I mean, it's kind of hard to miss the way he looks at you sometimes."

Emma knew exactly what she was talking about. Her thoughts drifted to their photo booth picture from prom and that look on his face…like she was _everything._

But she just shrugs her shoulders as Ruby gets up.

"I better go," she says. "Granny's gonna blow a gasket if I don't get back in there soon."

"Go ahead," Emma says. "I'll be fine. We'll…be fine."

"Yeah, I'm sure you will," she smiles. "Plus, he's not your _only _friend you know."

A genuine smile of gratitude stretches over Emma's face. "Thanks Ruby."

"No problem! Us girls gotta stick together! Just tell me one thing…"

Somehow Emma knew where this was going.

"What was it like?"

"What was _what _like?" Emma laughs.

"The kiss, idiot. How was he?"

Emma smirks, turning away from her. "See you inside, Ruby."

"Oh, come on!" Ruby whines. "Killian's hot. You can't blame a girl for wondering."

"Bye, Ruby."

Ruby rolls her eyes with a smile and goes back inside. When the door clicks, Emma considers what her answer should have been to that question.

The kiss…_his _kiss…it was magical.

But it was a strange sort of magic. The kind that's so powerful it's scary. Like something wild, something foreign or unknown that might consume her and burn her right up if she's not careful.

This reminded her of a quote she'd always loved ever since she was little. In one of her favorite fairytale books, there was a quote which read,

"_All magic comes with a price."_

If the price of the kiss was their friendship, then she wasn't willing to pay it.

* * *

Killian had spent the week preparing for the open mic night: adjusting the set list, cleaning the café, preparing the menus and food, calling the radio station and setting up the live stream equipment. It's a ton of work, and it keeps his mind occupied for as long as he's there. But when he leaves, she is the only thing on his mind.

When he thinks about that night, he feels embarrassed knowing that she probably feels the same way. The look of fear in her eyes was pretty disheartening, like she had lost him already. There was no way in hell that was going to happen, though. He just had to figure out a way to tell her that.

He had some ideas. All he could do was hold on to hope that she would show up that Friday night, and they could finally have a chance to talk.

* * *

Emma wakes up Friday morning in a bit of a haze. It's lazy summer mornings like this that make her forget what she did last week, until the reality of it comes crashing back into her.

She throws the covers off of herself and slowly stretches her way out of bed, her eyes trying to adjust in the bright sunlight streaming into her room.

As her eyes focus, she notices something on her window –a bright blue piece of paper-and knows immediately that it's from him. Who else would be on her roof at some strange hour of night?

She clicks the lock of her window, pushing the pane up and open. She reaches her hand up and grabs the paper, stepping back inside.

She can see clearly now that it's the flyer for his open mic night. She sighs and smiles, because she knows it's his way of telling her that he wants to see her. When she flips over the paper, there's a drawing on the back. A sailboat.

The Black Swan.

That was her pirate ship, the one she'd always drawn as a child. She'd imagine herself as the fearless captain, travelling realms and adventuring. Now, the little ship was a sort of symbol for them. Whenever she was feeling sad, he'd draw it out on her hand to remind her that he was there for her, that she was still his Swan. It was her version of the bracelet she'd given him so long ago when his dad left.

She walks downstairs to get breakfast, and finds her mother beaming at the kitchen table. Emma gives her a quizzical look, but she just keeps smiling.

"Good morning, honey."

"Morning...what are you so happy about?"

She stands up from the table and walks over to Emma, opening up her palm and placing an envelope in it.

"You got a letter this morning. Read it."

Her eyes catch the letterhead on the top of the envelope. She rips it open as fast as she can and begins to read.

* * *

The crowd starts trickling in around 6:30, ordering drinks and waiting for the show to start. When the room is buzzing and mostly full, he steps out onto the stage and in front of the mic.

"Uh, hello everybody, thanks for coming out tonight-"

Hoots and hollers sound throughout the room (likely August started it), making Killian more bashful. He scratches behind his ear and waits for them to calm down, and then continues, his accented voice echoing throughout the café.

"We've got a great night of music ahead for you all. We're gonna start off with some local bands who are gonna play for you for a little while, and then we're gonna open up the stage to whoever wants to come and play. The radio stream will last until the open mic starts, so text your friends who aren't here and tell them to listen in! Now everybody can grab a drink and relax, and enjoy the show."

The crowd claps and cheers for him. He introduces the first band, two girls from Storybrooke High who have a sort of folksy sound, and then heads back to the coffee bar.

On his way back, he sees her.

The bell above the door rings as she walks in, looking for him. But their eyes meet, and she smiles. It's timid, but it's there.

_This is it._

He scoots around the tables and chairs and makes his way towards her. She looks beautiful. Not like she was dressed up or anything. She was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans with some converse, but…she looks like Emma. His Emma. He hasn't seen her for almost a whole week. She was like a breath of fresh air.

"Hi," he says first, and she smiles.

"Hey."

"I'm glad you came."

She tucks a blonde strand behind her ear. "Yeah, me too. The place looks great."

Killian tucks his hands into his pockets and looks around. "Thanks. It only took me a whole bloody week to set this place up."

She laughs. "Well you should be proud. The crowd seems happy."

She looks out across the café, its exposed brick walls decorated with vintage posters, the industrial lighting on the ceiling made softer by the twinkling lights Killian had hung up all over the room and around the stage. It was cozy. It was…intimate.

"Let's just hope it stays that way," he smiles. Just then he notices his manager nodding to him.

"Hey, I gotta go check on some things," he says, "but I'll come and find you in a little bit. I'll bring you a drink if you want."

"I can go get it," she smiles. "Do what you gotta do."

He nods and then walks away, disappearing behind the kitchen door with the manager.

Obviously this wasn't the best time to talk about _that night _but she knew it was going to happen at some point in the evening. Her stomach was in all sorts of knots and twists knowing that she couldn't avoid him anymore.

But for now, she decides to just get a drink (hot chocolate with cinnamon of course) and relax, and just try to enjoy this evening that Killian put together.

She sees him pop out from different places throughout the evening. She likes watching him like this, being in charge and running from place to place to make sure everything was running smoothly. He doesn't look too bad, either. He's got his usual look: black t-shirt and jeans, a light plaid shirt rolled up at the sleeves, his cross necklace, her bracelet. She tries her best to pay attention to the music, but somehow always finds herself watching him instead. Occasionally she sends him a text and watches to see his reaction.

**(8:42 PM) EMMA:** _this guy is really good…_

**(8:44 PM) KILLIAN:** _I can hear the sarcasm from over here_

His eyes catch hers from across the room, and he smiles.

The evening goes well, except for the occasional faulty microphone or rude customer. After the first three or four bands play, Killian steps back onto the stage.

"How's everybody doing?" he asks the crowd. They cheer and clap.

"Alright," he continues, "We're gonna open up the stage now for any brave soul who wishes to come and perform for us all. If you'd like to sing a song or two or play a little something, just meet me over at the sign up table and we'll get you set up. I'll be over there for the next 15 minutes or so, so until everyone's signed up, please enjoy your drinks and maybe take a break. The bands you've just heard have some merchandise tables set up in the back if you'd like to take a look. Thanks everyone!"

The crowd cheers again and he makes his way down to the table. Only a few people sign up, but it was fine. He was ready for this night to be over so he could talk to Emma.

He finishes at the table and then let's August take the stage to introduce the open mic performers. He makes his way to her table in the back, and slumps down.

"It's about time you took a break," she smiles.

"Sorry," he laughs. "I didn't realize just how much work this was going to be. But I'm here now."

He lifts up his coffee cup in an act of cheers, and she hesitates. The last time they did that she ended up kissing him.

But she lifts her cup anyway.

They sit together in silence and listen to the first performer. He's obviously very nervous, but not too bad. When he's done, Killian cheers for him.

"It takes a lot of guts to get up there and do that sort of thing," he says, taking a sip.

Emma nods in agreement and takes another sip. "Hey, Killian?"

"Yeah love?"

She feels sick, but keeps going.

"I just wanted to say that…I'm really…I'm sorry for not talking to you until now."

He's a bit alarmed at her sudden change of conversation, but smiles sympathetically.

"It's alright, Swan."

"Can we talk later?" she asks.

"I'd love that."

He's looking at her now, and she feels like she can't breathe.

Just then, August steps up to the mic again. "Okay, everybody. We have one last open mic performer…a nice surprise for you all, I think. I'd like you all to help me welcome to the stage our very own, very talented, Killian Jones!"

The crowd erupts and cheers with excitement. Emma looks at him in confusion but he just smiles mischievously. Taking one more sip, he gets up from the table. "Well, Swan, I guess that's me."

"I guess so," she laughs.

She'd heard him sing a million times, but she'd never seen him play in front of an audience before. This was going to be interesting. She's suddenly on the edge of her seat, completely invested.

Killian jogs up to the stage, and picks up his guitar. He quickly tunes it and then pulls the stool up towards the mic. The crowd is still cheering for him, and he laughs as he adjusts his microphone.

"Okay you gits," he says. "Settle down."

The people laugh and then the mood of the room shifts, into something a little more serious.

"So, I hadn't planned on playing tonight," he starts, "but something changed my mind."

He looks up at her then, and she definitely can't breathe.

"This song is by the lovely little band A Fine Frenzy, who was first introduced to me by a very dear friend."

Emma smiles, because that was her. She remembers wrestling him to get the headphones in his ears, their laughter floating through his room.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to that friend. She's incredibly important to me, and I don't know what I'd do without her. So, uh, here we go."

She already feels like she's going to cry from that little speech, but it gets worse when he opens his mouth to sing. His fingers strum the guitar in a quick little rhythm as he sings:

"_**If we were children I would bake you a mud pie**_

_**Warm and brown beneath the sun**_

_**Never learned to climb a tree but I would try**_

_**Just to show you what I'd done**_

_**Oh what I wouldn't do**_

_**If I had you, babe, I had you**_

_**Oh what I wouldn't do**_

_**If I had you, babe**_

_**If I were old, my dearest, you would be older**_

_**But I would crawl upon your lap**_

_**Wrap a blanket round our frail little shoulders**_

_**And I'd die happily like that**_

_**Oh what I wouldn't do**_

_**If I had you, babe, I had you**_

_**Oh what I wouldn't do**_

_**If I had you, babe, if I had you…"**_

He keeps playing, and when he looks at her, he swears he can see tears on her cheeks. That wasn't going to make the next part of this song any easier, but he sings it anyway.

_**So lace your hands round the small of my back and I will kiss you like a king**_

_**You'll be my bride, I'll keep you warm at night**_

_**I will sing, I will sing**_

_**It was now and we were both in the same place**_

_**Didn't know how to say the words**_

_**With my heart ticking like a bomb in a birdcage**_

_**I left before someone got hurt**_

_**'Cause it was what I wouldn't do**_

_**If I had you, babe, I had you**_

_**It was what I wouldn't do**_

_**When I had you, babe, when I had you."**_

He plays the final few notes, and as the last note echoes throughout the room, the audience claps and cheers for him one last time. He smiles and looks around, just in time to see a flash of blonde going out the door.

* * *

He quickly thanks the crowd, dismissing them and handing his guitar off to August. He makes a mad dash for the door, praying that she isn't too far gone yet.

He stumbles out into the warmth of the summer night. He looks up and down the street, but she isn't there. _Shit. You've done it now, Jones._

His hands ruffle his hair in frustration, and he just stands there, unsure of what to do.

When he's about to call her, he hears a shuffling noise from the outdoor patio next to the café.

He slowly walks over, and finds her there. She's sitting in one of the metal chairs, her feet propped up on a table, her face in her hands.

"…Emma?"

Her blonde hair whirls around in surprise, and it's obvious now that she was crying. She quickly rubs the tears off of her face, and gets up to leave.

"I'm sorry," she says as she brushes past him.

But she doesn't get far, because his hand has curled around her arm, holding her back. "Emma, please."

She stops and looks at him, and relaxes her arms. He lets go and then faces her.

"Please don't run away this time," he says, voice growing quieter. "We need to talk."

She doesn't want to_. _She really doesn't want to.

But _all magic comes with a price._


	8. Eight

_**(Emma and Killian finally get a chance to really talk in this chapter. Keep leaving those lovely reviews for me…it motivates me to update faster! Thanks everyone xoxoHannah)**_

* * *

"Let's go for a walk."

"Are you sure? Don't you have to take care of the café?"

"August can take care of it. I've got time."

She hesitates, but they set off together down the street. The walk is comfortable: the stars are out and the humid heat has dissipated into a cool breeze. They make their way towards the shoreline, to the scene of the crime.

They walk in silence, serenaded only by the distant crickets and the waves lapping the shore. Each unsure of what to say to the other, they keep walking, letting the awkward silence fester between them.

As they near the docks, Killian veers to the left, towards the castle playground. Emma can't remember the last time she's seen it, let alone been on it. The wood is clearly falling apart now, having weathered many a storm and the stomping feet of children over the years.

They used to play there, too.

That was their main place and the setting for all of their Pirate and Princess adventures. It was where the happy endings of their make believe stories took place. They had carved their initials into the railing one day as children, as a way to never forget.

"It's been awhile," he says. He walks up the stairs of the castle and sits on the edge, letting his legs dangle over the side, his feet almost touching the ground.

Her fingers float over the 'K + E' embedded in the wood as she walks up the stairs.

"I don't even remember the last time I was here," she notes, sitting next to him. "It's a lot smaller than I remember."

"I was talking about us, Swan."

Her head ducks as she watches their feet sway together. "Oh…right." She tries to laugh it off. "Well…it's only been a week."

"And a bloody miserable one," he finishes, turning to look at her.

She forces a smile, to show him that she understands.

He looks hurt, but like he's trying to hide it. His expression is saying all the things he can't: _You're the one who walked away. You're the one who didn't pick up the phone. You're the one who left me alone on that beach._

"I'm sorry," she mutters.

His voice is calm, but searching. "Why, Emma? Why did you do it?"

Her green eyes meet his blue, and she's thinking about their childhood and their friendship and _that stupid fucking kiss _and it's all too much. She pushes off of the wood with her palms and her feet land on the ground with a thud.

He sighs and jumps off too. Emma was a tough to talk to sometimes, but he had always liked the challenge.

She walks over to the swing set and sits, the plastic curving around her hips as she begins to swing slowly. He sits next to her and does the same.

They do this for a little while, swinging in silence-nothing but the creaking of the old swings around them. Until he speaks up again.

"Emma, please. Talk to me. We can't sit here all night."

Her feet skid to a stop and she sighs. "I'm sorry. I just…I just don't want to have this conversation. I don't know how."

"Well there's no going back now," he says. "It's just you and me, Swan. And we need to talk about this."

"I know."

"So…why? Why'd you do it?"

"I don't know."

His voice raises a little. "What do you mean you don't know?"

She bites back. "I mean, I have no idea why I did that and if I could take it back right now I would."

"Bloody hell," he mumbles, standing up in frustration.

"Killian, I'm sorry."

This is exactly why she doesn't want to have this conversation.

He shakes his head and looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath before he continues.

"Emma, you can't just kiss your best friend of 15 years like that and have no fucking reason for it. Especially when-"

His voice stops abruptly, like he regrets having opened it in the first place.

She's got tears in her eyes now, because he's getting frustrated and she can _feel _his disappointment from there.

She stands up, her voice cracks as she speaks. She doesn't really want to know the answer to the question she's about to ask, but she has no choice.

"Especially when-what?"

He breathes deeply, and then looks straight at her. He's got tears in his eyes, too.

"Especially when," he starts, lowering his voice, "_especially _when that friend happens to **love **you as much as I do."

The word hits, knocking the breath out of her. They were not ones to say "I love you." She knew she loved him as her best friend, and vice versa, but still they've never said it. They've only shown it: through the little actions, like 7:45 cups of hot chocolate and a leather bracelet that he never takes off.

But to hear the word coming out of his mouth now was a completely different story.

"What are you saying?" she asks.

His shoulders slump as he sighs again. He aches to just come out and _say it _but all he can manage is,

"I think you know what I'm saying, Emma."

She steps backwards, still not believing what she's hearing. "No, I don't," her voice shakes. "…please elaborate."

He bites his lip, trying to figure out the best way to say all of the things that have been weighing on his heart as of late.

He takes a step towards her, until his face is only inches away from hers. With every ounce of bravery he can muster, he opens his mouth.

"Emma…I know you may not be in a place to hear this right now, but I can't keep it in any longer."

Her cheeks are flushed and she feels like she's about to throw up, because somehow she can sense where this is going and she doesn't like it one bit.

He looks into her eyes with deep sincerity and continues.

"It's always been you for me."

* * *

Her breathing becomes erratic as his confession bares down on her. Her eyes are darting back and forth between his as she desperately tries to figure out a way to stop this before it gets worse.

"Killian, I-"

But he sees her attempt, and keeps talking.

"Emma, there is no one that I trust more in the world than you. You've always been there for me when no one else was, and…I owe you a debt that I will never be able to repay."

She's crying, because _goddammit Killian. Why this? Why now?_

He smiles, timidly raising a hand to brush a tear off of her cheek.

"All I know is, over the last few years, my feelings for you have grown into much more than just friendship. They've grown into something that even I don't fully understand. What I do know is: I cannot live without you, Swan."

Her breath hitches as she continues to cry, her eyes closing as she soaks in his words.

"I was planning on telling you tonight anyway, after the open mic event, but I had changed my mind because I thought you weren't ready to hear it. Until last week, when you kissed me, and…changed everything."

He brings both of his hands up to cup her face, as tears fall gently down his own.

His eyes are pleading with hers, desperate to hear her speak back an affirmation.

She can't look at him, so she slowly lowers her forehead to his.

Just barely, she squeaks out "Killian, I…I can't."

"Emma," he says, caressing her cheek, "You can't tell me you don't feel this. Whatever this is between us, I know you can feel it, too."

_I feel everything, _she thinks.

She shakes her head, and pulls his hands down from her face.

"Killian, I can't do this. You're my best friend. I just feel like…if we tried to be anything more, I could lose you."

He brushes it off, like it's nothing. "That would never happen. Emma you're not gonna lose-"

But she speaks up again, emphasizing the words as best as she can.

"**I** - **can't** – **lose** - **you**."

There are more tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, and it suddenly dawns on him that _you were right, Jones. She was definitely not ready to hear this._

He knew that opening up about her feelings was not something Emma was good at. It was probably the reason she ran away from him on the beach and most definitely the reason they had never said 'I love you' during all their years of friendship.

She wasn't rejecting him. Not really. She was only asking him to wait.

And he would do anything for her.

"Come here," he says, pulling her into a hug. She buries her face into his shoulder and wraps her arms around him, holding tightly.

He speaks softly to soothe her cries. "Emma, you're not ever going to lose me. I promise."

Her words are muffled into his shirt as she speaks. "I'm sorry."

It was a genuine apology, to be sure. In two words, she managed to say everything she needed to: _I'm sorry that I let you down. _

"It's okay, love," he soothes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry, too."

She breathes him in: the smell of the ocean and summer and memories and coffee and music and years of laughter, and she feels full. His arms around her are like a fortress, strong and solid, making her feel completely safe and at ease.

When their breathing calms, she pulls back and wipes the tears from her cheeks as he does the same.

"Jesus," she laughs, "look at us."

He laughs too, looking relieved that she doesn't hate him. The fear and anxiousness that they had both been feeling seems to have floated away in the breeze.

The moment turns serious again as she gathers her thoughts. "Thank you, for telling me all that."

"I thought you deserved to know."

She smiles. "You're friendship is the only thing I'm sure about right now. And you should know, since we're being honest, that I don't regret kissing you. I just regret the way it happened."

"Same here."

"I just…I just don't have room for that kind of relationship right now. There's just so many changes happening. I'll be moving soon, and then I'll have to focus on classes and work and it's just too much. I was thinking about all of that stuff that night, and was just feeling really shitty and overwhelmed. And you were there, and I was thinking about how much I'm going to miss you and I don't know what came over me, but that's why I kissed you."

He scratches behind his ear. "Yeah, I understand. It's…it's nothing, Swan. Not to worry." His expression changes from embarrassment to smugness, which was usually his way of covering up his own feelings. "It's going to be a lot harder than that to get rid of me."

She smiles at this, happy that he understands and isn't pushing her. She didn't want to say what she was really thinking: _we can't do this because I'm a shitty person and I don't deserve you because I don't know how to love another person like that. If anything happens it will probably be my fault and I would never forgive myself. __  
_

* * *

"Speaking of college," she says, "I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I um, I got a letter back from the school in New York and…well, I got in."

She sees his expression drop for only a moment, but then the corners of his lips turn up and he laughs, embracing her. "Swan, that's amazing! Congratulations!"

She laughs as her feet lift off the ground and her arms close around his neck. "Thank you!"

He sets her back down but she can see his smile isn't there anymore.

"New York is much farther than Boston."

Her eyes turn down to look at her feet. "I know…that's the only thing I'm not happy about."

"But it's your dream school," he says, trying to cheer her up.

"Yeah," she smiles, "It is."

"Well, you know I'm proud of you, right? You're probably going to do so much better than I will in college."

She blushes but brushes it off. "Thanks. And shut up, you'll be fine. You're one of the smartest people I know."

"When do you leave?"

"One week."

His eyebrows arch as he does the math. "Only one? I thought you were still gonna be here for at least another month."

She sighs, "Yeah, I know. But orientation for the criminal justice program is earlier than the other school, and I still have to move in and everything."

"Shit," he mumbles.

"I know, I'm sorry," she pleads.

"What can I do to help?"

"My mom and I were going to start packing up my things on Monday. I'm moving next Friday morning. We'll probably need your help, seeing as I don't have any other friends."

"Well, count me in then."

"You got it," she smiles.

They stand there smiling at each other like a couple of idiots, happy for the awkward tension and stress to be over.

He wasn't going to admit that his heart was broken, but this wasn't over. He still had a chance, and he was going to try again. He'd win her heart one day. She just wasn't ready to give it away yet. And it was okay, because he knew that Emma is worth waiting for.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asks. "I'm not quite ready to go back just yet."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she answers. "Beach?"

"Definitely beach."

They walk together down the sandy shore, stopping every once in a while to look at the stars or splash water on each other. Everything could go back to normal now.

Which would be true, if everything wasn't about to change.


End file.
